Akitada glanced at the pile ofheavy leather-and-metal pieces missing from his costume and made a face. “Thankyou, no. I don’t think that will be necessary, Captain. Keep me informed.”
Takesuke stared at him for amoment. Then he compressed his lips, saluted, and withdrew so abruptly that he left the door ajar.
Akitada shivered and stared down at his hands. It was difficult to meet people’s expectations and yet that was his duty here. He was no soldier and hoped to avoid bloodshed. As a youth,he had received the customary training in archery and sword fighting, but he had never fought a battle. In fact, his performance with bow and arrow had been distinctly mediocre, though he had always done well with a sword. But Hitomaro,the only skillful swordsman among his retainers, had pointed out that fightinga battle was very different from the practice bouts they had engaged in.
Akitada sighed. The soldierTakesuke had reason to disdain the official from the capital, but he was surely not the coward Takesuke thought him.
A soft rustle alerted him tothe presence of his wife. She had thrown a deep crimson brocade mantle over herthin white underrobe, but her hair was loose, sweeping the floor behind her. Inthe light of the oil lamp she looked like one of the fairies of the westernparadise.
“Are you in pain?” she askedsoftly.
“No,” he lied. “We have been discussing the schedule for the coming day. And Captain Takesuke was just herewith a report.”
Her eyes searched his face. “Allis well?”
“Yes. All is well.” He reachedfor the brocade bundle. “I have a gift for you.”
She came quickly and knelt byhis side to undo the ties. Her hands shook a little. “Ah,” she cried when shesaw the lacquered box. “A shell game! And how beautiful!”
He watched her excitement, theway she touched the box and opened it, then lifted and looked at each shell with little cries of pleasure, her slender hands graceful. She was trying veryhard to be strong and filled him with pride. There was a touch of color in hercheeks, and her silken hair slipped charmingly over her shoulder. Suddenly he felt enormously wealthy and, like any rich man, he was afraid.
“Come,” he said. “Keep me company for a little while and play a game with me.”
Outside there was the silence of the cold predawn. Here, in the soft light of the lamp, Tamako, who bore his child, placed shells on his lacquered desk with little clicking sounds, and smiled at him, murmuring, “It is the most exquisite present.”
SEVENTEEN
THE TRAP
There!”said Tamako, pushing the pair of shells toward him. “I won again. A perfect match!”
Akitada glanced at the lute players depicted on the shells and then at his wife. Her slender face was flushed and her eyes shone with pleasure. He thought her quite beautiful.
“You did indeed.” He sighed with mock chagrin. “This game turns out to be unlucky for me. Twice I was quite close to winning, but you beat me each time.”
“Oh,” she cried, dismayed, “you won’t take a dislike to the game? It is merely chance, you know. The next time it will be your turn to win.”
Before he could answer, the door opened and Captain Takesuke entered. He looked tired and glum. The sight of Akitada playing a game with his wife seemed to anger him.
“The enemy has withdrawn,” heannounced.
“Oh! That is good news,Captain,” cried Akitada’s wife, rising to her feet, her eyes bright withrelief. “You will take a cup of warm wine after your cold vigil?”
Takesuke seemed on the verge of declining, but changed his mind. “Thank you, Lady Sugawara.” On Akitada’s invitation, he sat down, holding himself stiffly erect and meeting Akitada’seyes stonily.
Akitada gave an inward sigh but waited until Tamako had served them and withdrawn to her own room. Then hesaid, “You wished for an armed encounter, I think.”
Takesuke’s eyes flashed. “Anyman of courage must regret a missed opportunity.”
Akitada managed not to flinch at the implied insult. He studied the other man’s face and noted the fainttinge of pink, the compressed lips, the defiant eyes. Yes, Takesuke despised him for a coward and had the courage to say so to his face. For such open insubordination, he might well be ordered to die. But Akitada had no intentionof losing the service of a good officer and of one who had just saved theirlives. Should he explain himself? Tell the man that he wished to avoid the lossof even a single innocent life in this struggle for power? He discarded thethought immediately. There was only one thing a man like Takesuke understood and respected, and that was higher authority.
“Captain,” he said coldly, “itwould be best if you guarded your temper in the future. Only the fact that youhave performed your duties so well restrains me from issuing an officialreproof.”
Takesuke flushed more deeplyand bowed, but the defiance did not leave his eyes.
“It is not,” Akitada continuedin the same cold voice, “in any case, for you to judge matters which do notconcern you. I arrived here with specific mandates and the authority to carrythem out. Only his Imperial Majesty himself can change these mandates. You andI merely obey.”
He watched as the other man’seyes widened with respect. Takesuke prostrated himself and cried, “This stupidsoldier regrets extremely his careless words. They were spoken out of a ferventwish to offer up my life to his Majesty.”
“Very well,” Akitada said,grudgingly and with a deep scowl. “I suppose you were tired. You may go.”
Takesuke scrambled up.
“You may return to the garrisontoday but keep your men in readiness. I want a continuous watch put on Takatamanor. All movements of Lord Uesugi, military or otherwise, are to be reportedto me instantly.”
Takesuke saluted and left sorapidly that the door slipped out of his shaking hand. Akitada sighed withrelief. The night was past and they were safe.
His eyes fell on the desk. Theshells still lay scattered. He touched the pair Tamako had so proudly pushedforward and smiled again. It had been a mismatch. The two lutes were not thesame, but he had not had the heart to tell her. He started to scoop them backinto their containers, when a thought struck him. For several minutes he sattransfixed, staring into space. The lute. Surely it was only a coincidence. Butthe thought made him so uneasy that he decided he would pay the curio dealer Shikataa visit as soon as the sun was up.
Akitada expected his trap to catch its prey. He took no pleasure in it, but watchedwearily and with a sense of impending disaster as events unravelled. The curiodealer had confirmed his suspicion and raised new ones.
Right after his return from Shikata’s shop, Tora brought in the maid Kiyo and left her outside Akitada’soffice to cool her heels and pour vituperations on him and the clerks. Akitada sat with Seimei, immersed in the ongoing chore of checking Hamaya’s roster ofrice tax payments against the provincial register and old reports from granary masters. They could hear her angry voice wishing all officials to the devil for a wide range of depraved actions.
Seimei made a face and said, “That woman’s voice will pierce a rock.”
There was a time when Akitada had been amused by the girl’s lack of respect for authority, but thepersistence of her tirades made him thoughtful. When she was eventuallyadmitted to his office toward noon, he looked at her with fresh interest. Tora,red-faced and white-knuckled, pushed her into a kneeling position, but she immediately raised her head again and glared defiantly at Akitada.
“Lieutenant,” growled Akitada, “whatis the meaning of the infernal racket this female has been making?”
“Sorry, your Excellency. Sheseems to think she and unspecified others have been treated unjustly by thisadministration.”
Akitada stared at her withwrinkled brows. “Unjustly? What is your complaint, woman?”